


Maps of a Compass Rose

by theoreticalpixy



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: (mostly offscreen) torture, AU, Companion Piece, Dystopia, F/M, Mildly explicit sex, Pirates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticalpixy/pseuds/theoreticalpixy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dystopian/Pirate AU<br/>The fragmented records of a fragmented courtship between two parties that should never have courted according to the rules. Thankfully neither was very good at the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maps of a Compass Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If We Lived and Were Good](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2841) by _samalander. 



> Companion/prequel/shares a world with [ If We Lived And Were Good by samalander.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/234851/chapters/359862) It can be read alone but reading hers will definitely give a fuller world view/understanding as this piece is rather micro focused on this particular relationship.
> 
> This has existed in varying ways since the rp that invented this verse and has expanded and changed a LOT since. I'm glad it can see the light of day. Many thanks to my startrek_diary ladies.

**First Meeting (Year 1)**

-

The room is neat, gray and boring, just like everything else fleet. Pike waits relaxed in his chair for the next idiot who's planning to try and get a confession out of him. He's got eleven minutes until the crew will be able to beam him the hell out and he's rather hoping the new fleet bastard is there to see it.

The woman who walks in isn't what he's expecting.

Well, she's half what he's expecting. Humanoid, serious, dark hair pulled back neatly, pale, tall, strong. She walks efficiently to her own seat and lays out a file. She'd be graceful if she wasn't so intently focused. Born and bred fleet.

"You're George Lowther," she says and she stares holes into him with bright blue eyes. She's stunning. Pike smirks a little, there are worse people to be interrogated by. She’s bold, everyone else has been dancing around the Lowther connection, too insecure to make the direct accusation.

He likes bold.

"Pretty sure I'm Chris Pike actually, I've told you before you have the wrong man."

"Yes, Christopher Pike, 39, no living relations, and 'freelance small businessman' if you're to be believed. Tell me Chris, if you're so innocent how do you explain the sighting of the pirate ship _Enterprise_ and the missing supplies of the facility you were taken in at?"

"Coincidence. Or maybe someone's framing me."

"Indeed. So wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Yes ma'am," he smiles at her.

"And was your lack of ID a coincidence as well?"

"I'm forgetful sometimes."

"I see."

"You're prettier than the last guy. What's your name?"

"You may call me Number One."

"That's not a name," he returns. Except it is and now he knows exactly who she is. She looks different in person.

"On my world it is. Now Chris, we're going to be here until you can give me a real reason for what happened last night-"

"What world?" _Illyria_ , he answers to himself. He may not have recognized her face in the too bright detainment cell but he knows her background. Everyone does. She can probably tell he's playing dumb but he doesn't care.

"What happened last night? We're not leaving until you tell me."

"You have no evidence and I'm not Lowther so we're going to be here a long time if that's the case."

"If you're not Lowther you're part of his crew and for that I have all the time in the world. And in the off chance you're not then you saw something, know something."

"Mmm, yeah well I don't. Sorry to disappoint."

"Then perhaps we can talk about your past Pike. What exactly have you been doing lately? Your record is a bit sparse."

"Shipping out with a merchant crew. It's all legal, you can look them up."

“For the last..” she checks the file, “18 years? Long time to be off radar.”

“Been busy.”

They both know it's all a lie. But it’s not a lie quickly checked either. They both let the room go silent.

"Your crew has left the solar system, there's no one coming for you," there’s something unsettling about the evenness in her voice as it breaks the silence. It gives him a flicker of understanding about why she’s so good at all this.

"Liar," he pronounces slowly. He holds eye contact and leans forward across the table, the move made slightly more difficult because of the cuffs they have him in. He beckons her forward like he has a secret to tell, she doesn't move at first, "You're a liar and you're dying to trick me into saying something that'll let you keep me here," he speaks quietly but confidently, she leans in. Just a little, eyes deadly, but it’s enough.

Two minutes until beam out.

"Your file may be technically clean but you ping up some very interesting things you know. You and pirating go a long way back. _Kelvin_ back. You can't win," she replies.

"Neither can you," she's only a few inches from him and he feels electric. This is her. The evil bitch who's brought in his friends, who chases him and half the people he knows. But in the faceless room she's just a woman, striking and fierce and so proud. He wants her and he wants her bad. To shake her down and see what's left. It'd probably be stunning.

"Kiss me," he challenges.

"No."

"I'll tell you anything you like if you do."

"Now you're the liar."

"Never said I wasn't."

"You're a pirate, and I am going to make sure you pay for what you've done."

"Promises, promises."

Thirty seconds

She's glaring and he lunges forward quickly to steal a kiss, messy, hot, and brief before she shoves him off her; punches him hard and cleanly, square in the nose. He pulls back and out of reach from a second strike. She doesn't follow as he settles back into his chair. He laughs through the pain.

"You're quite a woman," he says, grin breaking out wide as blood trickles from his nose; it was a nice hit. Feels broken. Well, he got a reaction.

"And you're a disgrace of a man," her words sharp like another punch. She's pulled in tight and controlled again, but there's an undercurrent of anger that hasn't settled. He's a little too pleased with himself for getting under her skin.

"Maybe. But you'll never know," he smiles and with that he feels the tinge of the transporter and sees her eyes go wide. Her hand whips out the communicator but he's gone before he hears what she says.

He smiles at Pitcairn once safely on his ship.

"Nice timing," Pike crosses to the comm panel on the wall.

"Lowther this is Pike, thanks for the rescue. I owe you one. I've got a date with medbay before I get up there. And someone get these damn cuffs off me!"

-

**Third Meeting (Year 2.5)**

-

"Miss me?" he says before she's even fully in the room.

"Ready to admit you're Lowther?"

"I'm not Lowther, and you have no evidence." This time he is Lowther though, April retired 3 months ago, so this? Definitely the stupidest thing he's ever done and he’s got 41 years of some truly stupid stunts to compare to. He should've called off the job when he heard she was in the area, not blazed forward, not played chicken with the police. Not let himself get caught.

He might have gotten obsessed with her a little after their second encounter.

Okay, maybe a lot. He pulled up every file he could on her, on her background. Everyone knows the name, know the rumors, so he dug deeper. She's ruined lives, of his friends, kept Winona and the boys on the run. For every time he blanched at what she's done he also marveled at her skill. He couldn’t help wanting to see her a third time when the opportunity had been so close. Something about this woman ate at his head.

"Had some time to dig since our last," she leads. At least he’s not the only one who did some extra reading. Number One tosses a file and it slides across the table. Pike takes it, flips through, occasionally staring down Miss Number One as he does.

"So? My record's clean," he closes it and slides it back. His record isn't really clean and there are a couple surveillance photos from days gone by in the file that are definitely him, but it’s just bait. They don’t have anything firm or he’d be halfway to Earth right now.

"Why did you leave Starfleet?"

"Is that really relevant?"

"Answer the question."

"I didn't agree with their ideals anymore."

"Because of George Kirk?"

"Played a part, I admit," except for the part where Pike didn't meet George until a couple months after he'd hightailed it from earth. Better to muddy to truth.

"Is that why you used his name?"

Pike laughs, "Check the facts dear, Lowther's been active since before George Kirk died. Couldn’t be me."

"What's to say you didn't kill the real Lowther and take his place?"

"I don't kill people," _who don't deserve it._

"I don't believe you."

"You have no proof to back up your claims."

"We'll get it."

"No you won't."

"I will, I'll put you away if it's the last thing I do."

"You ever read the file on Talos 4? The real file?"

She looks him over and is silent. She's listening.

Good.

"Look it up. Then you'll know why I left your precious fleet,” he baits. She’ll take it, she has to, she’s so achingly thorough and precise. Maybe she’d even do something about it. Maybe she’d see.

He's beamed out with a broken arm and a concussion. It feels worth it.

 

-

**Fifth Meeting (Year 4)**

-

"Run away with me," he interrupts.

"How many times are you going to ask that?'

"Until you say yes."

"I will never say yes."

"Someday you will. You like me, it’s why you keep letting me go."

"You escape,” she pronounces the words with sharpness, just a hint of frustration.

"You let me," he grins.

"How long?" she gives. They both know he'll be snatched away again. He waits around just long enough for her to see him, drop some piece of info and then he leaves. They're starting to fall into a pattern. Her bosses hate it. Pissed that he keeps escaping.

"You got 20, tops," and by 20 he means 8.

"I know you're him. It's you, and the instant we get proof-"

"Darling, dear, you'll never get proof. There isn't any,” he laughs.

They're sure he is Lowther -well, _she’s_ sure- but all they have are a lot of outdated warrants that wouldn't be good for a long sentence and certainly not a death penalty. He's racking up charges with each drive by, but he's smart, he goes quietly, doesn't fight back, and the only ID he's ever produced is a horribly out of date but perfect legal one identifying him as Christopher R. Pike, which DNA confirms. It's not enough for what the higher ups want. Until they can get someone to testify that Pike is Lowther they're stuck playing the game.

"We'll get you eventually," the words sound false to both their ears. She could kill him if she wanted, her bosses probably wouldn't mind at this point. But a dead Lowther is less useful than a live one, so no one's issued her that order yet.

Nor does she really want to kill him. She should. Most of her still wants to hit him over the head half the time for how aggravating he is and the fact that he was friends with George fucking Kirk but...all the bits of information he's passed her are true. They’re true and they confirm and elaborate things she's witnessed within the fleet. Things she's done and been ordered to do.

He's making her question things.

"Look up Tarsus. Dig until you see the error," he doesn't respond to questions straight. Possibly his most annoying talent. He keeps her on her toes.

It's been a long time since someone kept her on her toes.

"Tell me why you're doing this."

"To see you."

He's not sure he's lying anymore.

 

-

**Sixth Meeting (Year 5)**

-

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you telling me these things? The feed's off, don't play with me, why are you doing this?"

Chris's eyes flick to the camera, to her, the door. She may or may not be lying. There's an edge to her voice he hasn't heard before.

"You're so much better than this."

Her brow furrows just enough to notice. "So are you," she returns.

-

**Seventh Meeting (Year 6)**

-

"That's enough."

The cool voice cuts through the room and everything stops. Pike's body hits the ground with an 'oomph', collapsing into a heap. He sags into the floor, cold concrete a relief on his injuries.

"Sir," the men snap to attention, "Just readying the suspect," the leader replies.

Her eyes dart to the crumpled form on the ground and back to the shaking lieutenants. "I don't take kindly to idiots trying to do my job," she circles the room slowly, the heels of her boots clicking in echoes as she walks, "especially when they do it so poorly." She stops, standing before Pike's head and waits a moment, "Well? Get out and let me do my job before I decide to dismiss you of yours, and send a medic in. I can't prosecute him if he dies from internal bleeding first," she barks out. The two men scurry from the room.

One crouches down, turns Pike's head to the side, looking him over. She lets her hair fall forward, covering her face, "You're getting stupid," she whispers but there's no harshness to it.

He responds with an achingly pathetic shrug. "You like me stupid," he mumbles. He's not quite all there. She knows what happen when eager young men go too far and it looks like the case here. She needs that medic asap.

"I'm flagging your file, from now on you don't get to deal with anyone but me, won't that be nice?" she says as she stands and straightens herself. Her voice is wicked again, hiding the truth in the words.

_I’m going to take care of you._

"Looking forward to it darling," he laughs, which turns into a wheezing cough. She kicks him onto his side, though not nearly as hard as she could.

"Shut up pirate."

-

**Eighth Meeting (Year 6.5)**

-

"How did you know?" she asks without looking up from the report she's going over. She's been waiting for him since the sighting of the _Enterprise_ three days ago.

Number One wasn't quite expecting him to turn up at a restaurant though. Certainly not in the middle of her breakfast, but after this long she can keep her cool.

Outwardly at least.

"It's all in who you know. Easy to find out the whats from there," he slides into the seat across from her, carefree in appearance. Sunglasses obscure his face but she’d recognized him the instant he walked in. He's tan, like he's been sitting on the beach for the three days she's been waiting, and dressed to blend in with the local crowd. He could pass for tourist if you weren't looking hard. If you didn't know the signs, the way he cased the room and its inhabitants. The beige tunic collar hangs slightly open and reveals curls of greying chest hair.

She admonishes herself for even noting it. "You shouldn't be here."

"No, not really. Gonna bring me in?" he helps himself to an orange from her breakfast spread.

She sits silently, not quite meeting his eyes for long moments. Her finger traces along the handle of her coffee cup as she watches his hands, rough, strong, start to peel the orange. There's no surveillance here, and he's already right in front of her. This is her chance.

"We can talk first."

They have an accord.

-

**Eleventh Meeting (Year 9)**

-

There's a keycard inside a folded slip of paper. Slipped under her door at the hotel she's occupying for the moment while her team works a case.

_Room 532  
I'll be there until 0300._

_-you know who_

She stops for a minute, yes she knows exactly who. No one else would ever dare, no one else wouldn’t be able to reach her through proper channels. But the _Enterprise_ hasn't been spotted in months, this isn't their- _his_ usual.

Oh god, they have a usual.

Number One pockets the card and note.

Two hours later she makes her way to the room 6 floors below. She's changed out of uniform, let her hair down, washed off her makeup. Number One carries a small bag filled with essentials and some less than essentials, weapons, cash, a bottle of hair dye; an emergency kit. They get caught together and they'll both be toast. The breakfast stunt had been bad enough, this was...new levels. She wasn't about to go unprepared.

It’s a corner room she notes, next to the emergency stairs. Multiple exits and only a floor above the roof of the next door building. It’d be a safe enough jump if it came down to that. He planned, it’s reassuring.

Her breath hitches as she opens the door. Pike looks up from where he sits a few feet away. It's been almost a year since she last saw him. She catches herself and slips inside as quickly as she can.

"You're going to get us both killed one day," she says as she passes him, walking to check the windows and determinedly not looking at him.

"Yet you came," he shoots back smiling as he stands.

She doesn't have a good retort for that.

 

-

**Twelfth Meeting (Year 9.5)**

-

It's painfully electric.

He wants to reach out and touch her; to feel her real beneath his fingers. They're getting so close. One trusts him, at least as much as either can trust given their circumstances.

She almost let him have her in that hotel room too many months ago. She pushed him away but she also kissed him back before she did. The taste of her lips, the way his hand curled into her thick hair and the heat of her body so close to his. Just a few moments. A few brief but impossibly vivid moments. The fantasy of her has been haunting him since.

To be honest the idea has been haunting him hell of a lot longer than that.

And if maybe his trysts have been tending toward tall, dark haired, and serious he's not about to admit it.

Their banter is quick and brutal, dynamic, he's bastard pirate scum and she's a stone hearted bitch. All their words, sharper, crueler, as they volley back and forth.

Somehow it's more satisfying than any real 'I love you' he's said. He wonders if she understands. He thinks she does.

-

**Thirteenth Meeting (Year 10)**

-

They have 19 hours, longer than they’ve had before. It took some maneuvering, but short stolen meetings and coded messages aren’t enough anymore. They want time. Need time. Need each other in ways neither wants to admit.

It’s the most run down, out of the way place either has been in. Which is saying a lot when it comes to Pike’s history, but it’s the best way to be safe. No chance of cameras or even decent security in a place like this. They have to be careful nowadays. She’s been promoted to Admiral and his profile is creeping up the most wanted list. They still aren’t calling him a Lowther suspect openly, thanks mostly to One’s maneuvering, but his picture goes out with the rest of the top 50 twice a year now.

Number One is there first, her plan after all, squeezing her drenched hair out over the tiny bathroom sink when he knocks at the door. She lets him in, cursing and also drenched. It’s rain season in the area, a good cover if not comfortable.

Most of the first hour is comprised of securing the room and peeling off wet shoes and coats that drip onto the stained carpet. One dries her hair with towel barely fit to be called that.

Then it’s business and the time passes faster. There have been blocks going up, another way to trap pirates. Number One maps out what she knows and they talk and plan. Alternate routes, best chances if avoidance isn’t an option. They talk politics, who’s doing what this week and trading names and info where needed. Pike sits too close and she feels a flush creep up her neck when he moves the towel from her shoulders. His fingers lingering.

“Your hair’s dry,” he justifies at the glance she gives. She turns back to the work. She wants him, selfishly, deep in the pit of her stomach _wants_ , but can’t bring herself to make a move. This is something she has no context for. When it comes to Pike she never does, both the appeal and the frustration of him. There are too many complexities.

At hour four they break for food. Prepacked things they've brought and coffee from the room’s barely functioning replicator, shittiest one this side of earth it seems. They can’t exactly go hit a restaurant together. Not anymore.

Number One lays down on one of the beds around hour eight, it’s been a long day and they’re just talking and trading stories. It feels so comfortable, this relati- this _partnership_ , they’ve built. Pike sits on the floor and she watches the back of his head and curve of his shoulders as he talks.

When he finishes his story Pike turns and looks back at her, “You gonna fall asleep on me already?” he teases.

“Unless you can keep my interest,” she doesn’t mean it as a challenge, but the words are out of her mouth and making up their own life. Telling truths they weren’t meant to. Pike pulls himself up and comes to sit on the bed with her. Keeping a distance, but she looks up and she knows his intent, has seen it once before. She thinks back to the last time they were in a hotel room together. They both knew on some level that they were here to finish what had been started.

He reaches for her hand. “Might be able to,” his voice is low and part of her wants to die at the way his lips press together. One drags herself up to a sitting position, keeping his hand held tight in hers. His fingers are calloused like she expected. Every moment of him is magnified as she takes in the closeness.

“I think you might.” The air is too hot and they stare a moment before coming together, one or the other leaning in first or maybe it’s perfectly even, but who can tell and it doesn’t matter as they pull each other closer. This is what they want, what they need.

And so at hour nine they're both breathing heavily, still in awe, senses still returning over what they just did. How good it was.

Number One rolls on top of him and stares him down.

“Do I finally get to hear you admit you’re Lowther yet?”

“I am actually Chris Pike you know.”

"I know. Christopher Robin Pike,” she runs a hand through his rumpled hair, “Now say it."

“Never," he protests.

"Say it," she tweaks a nipple.

"Nope,"

"Say it or we're never doing this again," she says it right into his ear, taking the time to nibble at his earlobe.

"Finally ready to admit you like me then?" his hand moves to her ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze in retaliation.

"You'll do," she says, One pulls back, her face playing at disinterest but only teasing. She’s almost giddy in the afterglow for reasons she can’t articulate. Her body and mind alight trying to piece her life back together around this new development. She kisses him quickly.

"Sure you're ready to hear it?"

"Say it," she demands.

"How do I know you're not recording this and going to use it against me?" he says it jokingly, but to be honest there's still a tiny nagging doubt. He's worried she'll withdraw if he pushes her too far but he's not fully sure what that would mean. Would she turn heel and hand him over? Or maybe just forget all about him.

It worries him a little that he dislikes the second option more than the first.

"And how do I know you're not just using me?" she returns. She's scared too, though hiding it like all hell, he can see it in her eyes. Her thrilling and wonderful eyes. It makes his own fear subside a little. She hasn't been encouraging him this long to run away now he reminds himself.

"I guess we'll have to trust each other," he brushes some falling hair behind her ear. It kills him how beautiful she is. It's not a purely standard beauty, it's sharp, dangerous. Pale skin against dark hair. Startling light blue eyes that accent her angled face. Deadly red lips. Everything about her is a challenge, one he can't resist.

"Yes we will."

Pike lifts his head a little and whispers in her ear, "I'm George Lowther."

She grins and captures his mouth. Her hips rock against his and he almost curses at how quickly she can pull another erection from him like he's a twenty year old - something he hasn't been in a long time. He grits his teeth for a half second and she smirks against him.

He flips her over, thoroughly enjoying the noise that escapes her and they begin all over again.

-

**Fourteenth Meeting (Year 10.5)**

-

It's not as different as he thought it'd be, the sitting in front of her being interrogated.

It's odd, sure, but it's not as much of a jolt as he expected.

It hurts a little more, the want to touch her. Now that he knows exactly what she feels like, tastes like, he's itching for her. But he's been itching for her for too long, even ramped up to eleven it's something he can at least deal with. The smooth lines of her face as she glares at him seem eons away from the way her lips parted and panted, the way her eyes closed and fluttered when he found each sensitive place. It helps take the edge off.

But that's been what they've been headed to, headed to for so long he almost forgets how long he hated her. It's not something he can really forget, fully forget, but sometimes part of him wants to. It’d be easier to wipe all of their bad history away. They have a lot of baggage between them. Hell, 'a lot' is an understatement, they have more baggage than should be manageable. He should still hate her for Winona's sake but he can't, he hasn't truly hated her since they finally met. Hating an idea was easy, hating the women was another matter entirely.

And it might as well have been another universe entirely once he'd fallen in love with her.

She has been saying something and he isn't really listening, too busy taking it all in again. It'd been too many months and while the memory was still potent it doesn't compare to seeing her in the flesh. Even under the circumstances.

He misses whatever question she's asking three times and she slaps him.

He shakes himself back to the present and laughs. His cheek stings and she slaps him again on the other side before sitting down again.

"Now, pirate, would you kindly tell me what the hell you were doing in that highly off limits and clearance only lab. I'm terribly intrigued," she spat, eyes ablaze.

Ladies and gentleman, this is the woman he loves.

"Sorry sweetie, that would be telling," he grins smugly at her.

Sometimes he thinks he's crazy.

-

**Sixteenth Meeting (Year 12)**

-

"Why?"

They're lying in bed barely inches apart and she doesn't need to elaborate for him to know exactly what she's asking. Why them? Why her? Why does he keep coming back, risking his life and ship to see her? He considers lying, the question hangs in the air while he thinks.

"I love you," he doesn't say it as a declaration, though it certainly is by most counts. He just says it simply, honestly. Chris thinks it might be the answer she wanted or maybe needed, but he's not sure which. They've gone long enough without saying it, she deserves to hear it regardless.

"I know," she says quietly. Which coming from her is more than a little like saying it back.

"We'll work it out."

"I'm going to have to run away with you aren't I?" her voice is musical, the tease present but there’s a very real undercurrent of the realities that question holds. She loves him, he’s become the most important person in her life despite all the complexities. But having him will mean giving up everything she’s known. Being on the run for the rest of her life. The corruption in the fleet makes the choice easier but it doesn’t make it simple.

"Well. I'd like that."

"I might too." She wraps an arm around him and buries her face in his neck as she shifts closer. He can feel her shake the slightest bit as he runs a hand up and down the smooth planes of her back. He pretends he thinks it's a chill, but they both know better. He tugs the sheet over them.

Under the fleet she's an untouchable emblem, a danger to those in her path. Her name said more often in hushed tones than normal ones. He doesn't really think of her as that person. Hasn't in a long time. Tucked into his side she's warm and real, mussed and nude and without pretense. He understands the significance that she lets him see this. He wonders for a moment how many other people have ever seen her so unguarded. Not many. Maybe not any at all.

They both live with walls and layers, the things you do to get by. Pretending to be invincible. Letting it all slip away together is the most wonderful relief, but it's also a temporary one.

They can't keep this up forever. There are some big decisions they're going to have to make soon.

-

**Eighteenth Meeting (Year 13)**

-

"Completely honest, and we let this go afterwards."

"Yes," One agrees though she doesn't move to start speaking.

It’s a conversation they need to have, though neither is exactly excited for it. But Pike has finally found Jim and the kid is getting more and more ready by the day. If they’re really going to do this they need to start planning and prepping. They need to get this out of the way if they’re going to run away together. They’ve never openly talked about what happened that day though both know. Pike knows that his best friend killed her father along with everyone else on that ship. As Pike stood and watched it happen. Add the damage Number One had done in her exemplary career and it all added up to a mess.

"Ok, guess I get to start. I wasn't just a bystander that day. You've probably guessed that."

"I had."

"One- how much do you want me to say? I mean, none of this is something you want to hear."

"Just be honest, we need to clear to the air if we're going to do this. Don't pander. "

Chris is quiet a few moments before he speaks, once he does he tries to chose his words as best he can, "I helped him load the explosives. I mean, yeah it was his idea, his choice, but I wasn't objecting. I helped put them on the pad and I told him to give them hell. And then I went to get Sam, make sure he wasn't alone."

"And you and Winona?"

"That fair game too?" he doesn't pretend to not understand her meaning. That part of his past wasn’t exactly a secret, not in pirate circles at least, but it also wasn’t something he cared to dwell on.

"So yes then."

"Yeah, yeah, most of that's true. Tried to - I don't know. Fix things, I tried to be there for the boys. For her. But with everything that was going on we fought like hell - too many ghosts. Weren't happy, didn't work, so we called it off and I went back to space."

"I see."

"Don't look like that. I'm just being honest, we were together awhile, it was fucked, haven't been in a long, long time. She might as well be a sister at this point."

"You were with her when I started chasing her," she says which is when he realizes it's not simple jealousy. She's trying to piece things together.

"More or less. We didn't actually give it a go until time had passed. Mourning. Wasn’t about to jump in bed with my dead best friend’s wife. But I was on the comm hearing about it. Thank you, for calling that all off by the way. Don’t think I ever said that,” he’s pretty sure he never did but it was also years ago. There’s never been time for it.

“Don’t mention it, we’re even,” she shakes her head, is quiet a few moments. "Beyond Winona I don't even know which friends of yours I've hunted."

"More than a few." He gets up and pours a drink, "Winona was the worst. Obviously. And not everyone lost was you really. It's hard to count."

"Don't lie."

"Sorry," he sits back down and sighs, "Alright, I don't really know which number to give you. Not everyone lost was someone I was close to, and not everyone lost was your fault."

"Explain them to me then."

"I'll try. Good friends? Fleet has killed three. Chased more like five. Friends of friends, acquaintances...another five. Chased three times that at least. This is over the last however the fuck many years of course. And only official hunts or captures, not counting line of work incidents. Even I don't want to go over those numbers."

"Understandable."

"Yeah, we've both done our damage."

"That we have."

"For what it's worth I'm sorry it hurt you. I'm not going to apologize for what I did. I regret the loss of life, but I made my choices."

"I can accept that. And I'm sorry for those you've lost because of me."

"Yeah, accepted."

"Yeah." They both go quiet, actually trying to deal with the scope of their lives is a bit much. Chris has a hard enough time thinking of those he's lost on _Enterprise_ , in the line of work, much less those deaths that ring worse. The ones hunted down and locked up or killed like animals.

"I don't fault you for chasing me though," the joke falls a little flat but it helps.

She gives a hollow and brief laugh, "We've always been absurd. And awful. Complicated. They'd have killed you if...if it hadn't happened how it did. It was all years ago, I've accepted what happened." He knows she admired and loved her father. Knows his death changed her, but it has been a long time, Jim's a grown man instead of newborn. Chris himself is greying, and has left behind childish ideas about 40 being the end of life. Fuck, 40 might as well have been the beginning. He'd barely met her at that point.

"I'm still sorry."

"So am I."

"Can this be the part where we never bring this shit up again?"

"I'd be all too glad."

"We leave the past to the past."

"Past is the past. Though you know, if you'd just stayed fleet this would have been much simpler," she manages to say it perfectly deadpan and Chris breaks out into an honest laugh of relief.

-

**Twentieth Meeting (Year 14)**

-

“The kid’s ready. Almost at least, we can do this. Start a plan with a real timeline. Next year when the contracts are up with the crew we’ll switch. Give it a year, maybe a bit less, to make sure it goes smooth. Then...we run away.”

“Finally. Do you still want to go out with bang?”

Pike grins, “You know it.”

-

**Plus One (Year 15)**

-

The plan is set (as set as it can be at least) and the _Enterprise_ is almost a month out with its new crew when the message comes. The name has been passed, Jim taking the captaincy and the legacy as best he can. When he’s steady Pike will introduce the plans to Jim. Come clean about everything and leave things as they should. Everything is ready and planned meticulously.

Pike gets a message, encrypted like all hell and straight to his personal inbox address. Not something he gives out to everyone.

_We need to talk, when can you get time and a channel from your side?_

_XO_

They try not to send messages when they're apart, too risky, too obvious. But they've done it on occasion. Arranging things, planning and ok, maybe once they misbehaved a bit with a live transmission. This is something important, or she wouldn’t have sent it.

He replies back and they figure out a time about 40 hours later when they can do it. Enterprise will be in range of her, they can get half an hour, maybe a bit more.

So time comes around and Pike arranges that no one's about to come after him and locks the fuck out of his quarters in preparation. Double checks the security, he's bypassing the comm officer, less variables. He knows Enterprise's systems backwards and forwards after this long, he can bury the transmission for the duration and scrub the logs after. Shouldn't be an issue. And if it is, well, he's just talking to a contact. They're doing some spy work, hence the security.

The lies are easy at this point. He’s not particularly proud of that fact.

"Hey you," he says once the connection is steady. She looks good, no surprise. She’s at her home, he’s never seen more than a wall of it. Never will.

"Christopher, I need to tell you something."

"So you said, what's up?" Chris tries to stay relaxed, they had time to wait for a transmission, whatever’s making her fidget isn’t an immediate threat to them. There’s time, time means he can fix it. He has to fix it.

She looks down and is choosing her words, "Do you remember that conversation we had about the possibility of us having..." she can't quite say it.

"Kids,” he finishes. Not something he’s going to forget, “Yeah, I remember, told you I got that taken care of. We can try. Still getting over the idea we even could, not about to li-"

"I'm pregnant," she interrupts.

"What?"

"I know. But I am. Seven weeks." She doesn't really need to say the last part. It's not as if there was much of a window, just three days in a run down cabin on a nowheresville planet back before the _Enterprise_ launched. He doesn’t need to pull a calendar to count the time.

"Are you ok with this?" he asks. It’s going to put her at risk, more lies she’ll have to tell and god forbid someone gets nosy and runs a paternity test against the wrong database.

"Are you?"

Chris tries to let his brain catch up for a moment; is he ok? A kid, a baby, she's pregnant, this is...big. It changes things.

"Yeah," slips out of his mouth, "Yeah, I'm ok with it," he says before properly conscious of it. The panic passes and he feels surprisingly calm. No, not calm, excited. He is ok with it, with this, with them. He loves her, and now they'll be a family. Not just a rag tag family of friends. Not a pantomime one like with Winona. A family of his own. A little baby to raise right, raise together. Like neither of them had been.

"Good... Good. I am too." She doesn't smile outright but her face eases and lightens. He smiles in response. It’s unreal, them of all people to be parents. It’s not something either had really thought would come to pass.

“So, we made a baby. We’re having a baby,” he’s still a bit in awe.

“We’re having a baby,” she confirms. One finally breaks out into a smile and laughs, low and sparkling.

-

**Day 1**

-

The first sight of him is almost a relief.

It’s been months, not their longest but with the baby everything is magnified. The selfish part of her wishes they could’ve just disappeared as soon as they found out. But he’s loyal and wouldn’t run away until things are set with Jim. They rearranged the plan, moving up the capture. Long enough for Jim to get as ready as possible, soon enough that Christopher and she could be settled before the baby arrived.

Chris is roughed up but it might as well be his best as far as she’s concerned. Her heart is racing when she opens to door to his cell and their little girl, _Emily_ , can’t stay still in her stomach. She relies on all her practice to keep the facade on, for the next three days he’s her enemy one last time, she can greet her lover after that.

“Pike. At long last. So what was all that about you not being Lowther?”

“Who the _fuck_ knocked you up?” he replies laughing.

She slaps him. She gives herself one brief moment to think what a shit world it is that that’s how she gets to greet the father of her child after all this time.

-

**Day 3**

-

One feels stretched too thin. Too many hours of watching Chris in pain at her own orders. Watching him bruise and bleed and react. Her temper is short with the fleet personnel she has to deal with. Can’t they leave her alone for a goddamn minute? She’s so close, so incredibly close to getting out, to getting a second chance with the only living person she really cares about. So close and it’s making her skin crawl as he thrashes against the guards. It’s the pregnancy she reminds herself. The stress. The fifteen thousand reasons she’s keyed up over the entire ordeal.

“Enough,” she orders.

The guards pull Chris out of the water. He’s gasping and gulping down air as he sputters. They hold him tight, hell, they’re keeping him upright. He’s sleep deprived and starved. He’s pale and soaked and bruised. This is what they agreed on. What he asked for.

“Are you ready to confess yet?”

“Bite me, bitch,” he spits.

“I see. Bring him here.” They haul Pike to her and she looks him over intently before she punches him. They lock eyes the whole time.

“Please remind this trash why it would be in his interest to admit his crimes,” the guards grin at the order. She glares daggers at their backs once they turn away. This isn’t for their enjoyment.

So she watches Pike beaten and kicked for the fifth time since he’s been in custody. Hopefully the last. She wants to leave, to turn away, to not stare at him as the damage is done but she never flinches. She stands tall, watches the ordeal with as much disinterest as she can muster. She owes him that. To be there in the ways she can despite the ruse.

She rests her hands on her stomach. It helps her mind, focusing on their futures, their reasons for all of this. She sees a similar small relief in his eyes when he gets a decent look at her.

Just a few more hours. They could survive until then.

-

**After**

-

They collapse in Chris's quarters after he's through sickbay. Both of them got a once-over while McCoy grumbled up a storm. Pike still needs a few days of healing and rest, but he's mostly together. Jim does too; he's in McCoy's and Chapel's care now. With a nod and a 'you know where to find me,' Pike left him to them. They could help Jim in ways he couldn't.

They lay out on top the covers and Pike pulls her close, holds her spooned against him. She lays his hand over her stomach and he laces their fingers together and waits to feel their girl move. His daughter. Their daughter.

"We did it," he murmurs into her hair, "We're free."

"Free," she echoes. She barely knows what to do with the word. They're both a little shell-shocked from the past few days. They've never had to keep the charade up for that long before. Never had to be so brutal. They'd planned and talked before hand, but it was still damn hard. Damn painful, and not just physically.

"I've got you," Pike whispers. He clutches her a little tighter. They've been at each other's side since escape, but it feels like it's not enough. They're always reaching for each other's hand, finding excuses to touch. A completely oddball experience, touching in other people's presence. The new rings on their hands adding to the strangeness. Pike feels like a stupid teen again, like walking down a hall with her hand in his is some daring achievement. It sort of is though. They've never been able to have this, have _them_ , in front of anyone else.

So he holds her and she holds him in the bed, too exhausted to manage much beyond remembering to take their boots off before they drift to sleep.

One is woken by the baby, a familiar occurrence. She untangles herself from Chris slowly. His brow is furrowed, not quite finding peace in sleep. She ghosts her fingers over his face before she heads to the bathroom to relieve herself.

He's awake when she returns, sitting up in bed, elbows on knees and head in hands. He's shaken, that much is clear.

"All right?" she asks.

"Yeah, yeah just...fucking dreams," he answers, rubbing at his temples. "Too much crap in my head."

"Ah," she slides back into bed slowly. One moves close and runs a hand over his back. He takes long shuddering breaths against her. "I'm here," she says, trying to ground him. They knew this was a possibility, all the preparation in the world can't make you immune to torture. A little trauma was to be expected. She's not exactly the picture of mental health herself after putting him through all that.

"I know."

"Let's get this shirt off you," she says to distract him. He's sweating through it, he hadn't even intended to fall asleep in it.

"Yeah, ok." He sits up straight and they pull it off together. Chris tosses it hard across the room were it falls half in the hamper. He breathes a little easier as the air touches his skin. He’s safe on _Enterprise_ , he reminds himself. They all made it through safe. One keeps touching him, and he twists to kiss her mouth. A little desperation beneath the slowness he tries to keep.

After that they fall together, slowly tugging off clothing. Never letting hands or mouths stray too far as they come together. They map the changes in each other's bodies, taking their time. One's are more obvious, her swollen belly, the extra curves to her frame, and the sensitivity of her skin; but she notes each new scar and wrinkle on Pike in turn. He's lost weight during the ordeal, just enough to notice, his balance a little more flesh than muscle. It’s a learning curve re-finding their fit, but they do.

When they finish, satisfied, panting and sweat slicked, they have no idea how long its been.

And for the first time, it doesn't matter.


End file.
